


Our Little Secret

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Boy Scouts, Bullying, Child Abuse, Consensual Underage Sex, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Protective Original Percival Graves, Religious Guilt, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:37:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9436505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Boy Scouts was just another way to pass the time, to avoid the belt, and Credence didn't even mind that the other kids hated him.But everything changed when the regular Scout Master got sick, and the replacement came in the form of a scowly dark haired man named Mister Graves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nevospitanniy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevospitanniy/gifts), [whileyoustillcan (L_M_Biggs)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_M_Biggs/gifts).



“You gotta help me out, Percy.”

“I don’t _gotta_ do anything, man.”

“If you don’t, Queenie is going to air your dirty laundry, and you know how she is. She’s pretty as a picture, but she can make a grown man cry.”

“If it’s you, that’s not exactly difficult.”

“You want me to put her on the phone?”

“No. Okay. What is it?”

“Three weeks of scouts. That’s all. I don’t want to risk getting any of the kids sick.”

“How could that even happen? Not like you’re spitting on them. How sick are you really?”

“Proximity... viruses are contagious. It’s the flu, Percy. Didn’t you ever go to science class? Or the doctor?”

“No. Well, I was there but I don’t remember much.”

“Remember this. Three Tuesday nights, starting in the Baptist church on 3rd. There’s a camping trip on the last week. I know you can handle it.”

“Got it. Great. Good thing camping is the last week, because I’ll be ready to kill myself by then.”

“No drinking before. At all. Come on Percy, promise me… You can do whatever you want after.”

“Jacob… okay. I will. Get better fast.”

“I’m trying. After all, I’ve got the best nurse!”

Percy hung up the phone and glared at it for a good half minute, considering if the satisfaction of smashing it would be worth the cost of replacement.

It wouldn’t.

Now he had three weeks and three nights where he would have to baby sit snotty nosed kids, for free. Not ideal. What Jacob hadn’t told him was that the first week was also going to be an outside excursion. Just out behind the church in the couple acres of land they had, including a small forest, not overnight or camping, but still.

Ugh.

He was good to his word and he didn’t drink all day Tuesday, but he had a bottle of burgundy chilling in the fridge for when he got home, and tried to keep from thinking about it as he drove over to the nondescript church.

Churches in general always gave him a bad feeling, and it might have had something to do with how he left, ten years back, declaring he’d never return. Along with all the not so good he’d done since.

Oh sure, Jacob, only his best friend had decided to become the equivalent of a pastor without the credentials, all in the name of ‘practice’ for when he and his pretty and dangerous girlfriend Queenie settled down, or ‘ _stopped shacking up’_ as the Graves’ parents would have called it.

Tina, Queenie’s older sister, had always been the quieter of the two, and she was off traveling the world with some zoologist on their version of a honeymoon, barely emailing him back once a week. It was kind of annoying; he missed her, because she was much more fun than Jacob. He missed being able to call her when he was drunk and just let her talk to him, but she wasn’t only his friend anymore.

But it would be okay. Just three weeks of babysitting.

He tried to ignore the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he parked and then walked into the building, continuously looking down at his hands to see if they’d catch fire or smoke or anything, yet, nothing happened.

*

Credence tried not to wince as he pulled on his scout jacket over his shirt, still scraping painfully over barely healed welts on his back. Waves of pain distracted him from every other sensation as fabric shifted over his skin.

The devil was trying very hard to steal his soul, and his ma had told him, it was because of his age and how God was testing him, so he could eventually become a true man of God.

The only thing good about boy scouts was that it meant he could get away from his house, away from ma, even if just for a couple hours, and pretend he had friends.

He had gotten to join them in the first place on the recommendation someone had made, a pretty lady with blonde curls that looked almost like sunset kissing the horizon, to ma that joining the scouts would make him into a better student, and let him make some good friends for life, and so she’d relented, and given him the respite he so desperately needed. Although Credence pretended not to want to do it, and his bits of rebellion convinced her it would be best for him. It earned him extra beatings, but it ensured he’d _get_ to go, if she didn’t know he liked it.

He also got more whippings when he got back home and didn’t have a new badge like everyone else, and trying to explain why was pointless.

Without a partner for any of the activities, it was nearly impossible to keep up with the other boys, and he wouldn’t know what to do if she thought he wasn’t trying his best.

Jacob, the scout master, occasionally offered to help him, to be his partner during fire starting or knot tying tests, but he always refused. He didn’t want to be accused of being teacher’s pet; he already got that enough in school.

He didn’t understand it, it wasn’t like he was exceptionally bright, as ma always said, but it had to be the wickedness in his veins that made him learn faster, and never forget most things he read. Along with waking up every morning with a fire blazing over his skin and between his legs.

It was from being born of a pair of sinners who were already burning in hell, ma said.

He never wanted that to happen to him, so he never gave in to the devil’s whispers, never touched himself, never stoked the fire, and he just tried to keep his head down in every scout meeting, to do as Jacob told them all, and study hard in school and in bible study as ma wanted. He kept his head ducked low everywhere, even as he walked into the next scout meeting, only looking up in surprise at the strange voice.

“Hey kids uh, I’m Mister Graves. Jacob’s out with something, the flu I hop- think, so I’m here until he’s better. He didn’t exactly give me a lesson plan until the camping night, after the next two meetings, but something about the manual says survival skills? So get your shi- er, stuff, and we’ll go outside, and you can collect firewood and climb some trees.”

The collective whoop that sounded from the boys made Credence flinch, and he ducked back, watching as they all filed out, until he was left in the back of the room, like sea foam in the wake of a massive wave.

“Hey kid, go on. Stay with the group.”

He let his eyes dart over to the new man with dark hair and heavy eyebrows, and nodded at once, trying not to notice how there was no green or khaki jacket hiding _his_ white undershirt, which looked almost see through.

He just wore a leather jacket and dark wash jeans.

Hardly scout master protocol.

The fire threatened to lick at his skin, and he dropped his gaze, digging his fingernails into his slightly scabbed palms to distract himself.

“Yes Mister Graves, sorry.”

The man followed him after a few paces, and then Credence turned back to him, catching him biting at a thumbnail.

“What?”

“Do we, will we get to earn a patch while Jacob’s gone? This week could fall under the _‘lifesaving or emergency preparedness’_ merit badge.”

 The man looked confused, and Credence could hear that most of the other scouts had already gone off and were scattered in the forest.

During the beginning of fall naturally, the sun was still up until almost nine, so even as late as seven it was still pretty light out, but Credence still hated the idea of getting trapped out there after dark. It had happened once, a year or so back, when his old class of scouts had ganged up on him and tied him to a tree.

When Jacob had found him, nearly an hour later, he’d given everyone a stern talking to, and none of them ever spoke to him again. Even the ones who’d graduated and moved up a class had passed along the word that no one should be friends with Credence Barebone.

It was like _he’d_ been the one who committed the offense, but after a while, Credence decided he didn’t mind being ignored over tortured. But he’d gotten the worst beating of his life that night, after coming home so late.

“Um. I don’t know kid; Jacob didn’t tell me anything about _that_ stuff. I guess I’ll have to ask him later.”

The man’s raspy voice cut through his fog of memories, and Credence nodded.

“Okay yeah. I just asked because, I don’t know if he told you but, I never have a partner. He sometimes offers.”

“Why not?”

The man was staring at him, and Credence had never had such undivided attention in his life, from anyone besides Jacob, who usually cracked a joke after a minute and clapped him soundly on the back before getting back to being instructive. He fumbled with something to grip, to dig his hands into, and he started picking at one of the scabs on his palm, from the last time ma had whipped him with the belt. Two nights back. It hurt.

Mister Graves seemed more like the hands off type of teacher, as indicated by the way he’d told the group to go off and do stuff, and then not continued with any further instructions.

“They don’t like me.”

Mister Graves had caught up with him, as he had now dawdled to the edge of the forest,

“Why not? You seem like a nice enough kid. If a little bit, uh, ‘omen-y.’”

Credence blinked over at him, and bit his lip before asking,

“What’s that mean?”

Mister Graves’ face broke into a grin, and it was infinitely different than when Jacob smiled. It looked like the devil tempting someone.

The voice inside him started to whisper, and he stared at the button beside the man’s neck to try and concentrate on drowning it out.

“Dark hair, pale skin, and mile long stare… you know… haven’t you seen the Omen?”

Credence was utterly lost, and Mister Graves sighed,

“Never mind. It’s not important. It’s just a joke. Don’t worry kid, if you need any help, just ask.”

“I don’t need help starting a fire, or climbing a tree, but it’s getting down that’s the hard part.”

He said as matter of fact as he could, before striding over to the nearest one, and starting to place his feet, relishing the scrap of bark under his palms.

They had barely healed over from the last time the belt had been on them, and since he’d been messing with them, had started to sting and bleed freshly again. Credence barely noticed as he quickly reached the highest part of the tree, until he looked down to see Mister Graves watching him, a bit uneasily.

“Now, don’t fall, because I don’t wanna have to call 911.”

“Oh no Mister Graves. I never have. I usually slide down.”

“Fu-for god’s sake, kid, that’s not any better. Just jump and I’ll catch you. You’ve done enough for the day. Patch earned, whatever.”

Credence snorted.

“This is where the firewood is.”

He reached out to start breaking off a branch, but lost his balance within a few seconds, and was already trying to start his prayers as he fell.

“Goddamnit.”

Mister Graves let out a huff of air as Credence landed soundly against his chest, strong arms bracketed underneath him.

“You blaspheme a lot Mister Graves.”

“Yeah? Well you almost broke a leg.”

“Sorry.”

Credence hoped he sounded sheepish enough.

He hadn’t really meant to do that.

“Yeah, you better be.”

*

Percy wasn’t sure what it was about the kid that was so entertaining, but he was just glad the job had turned out to be a hell of a lot easier than he was expecting.

Catching him was easy enough, he was light as a feather, but setting him down was a whole other problem in and of itself.

His slim body accidentally grazed over his chest and hips, and was more than enough to stimulate things that should remain, not awake.

He could still hear most of the group chattering and shuffling through the small woods, and even as he set down the reckless ‘damien-esc’ kid, he found himself fighting to relax.

It wouldn’t do for the group to return and see their current leader was sporting a tent of his own.

“Maybe you should keep your feet on the ground, okay?”

The kid nodded, and Percy realized that he needing to stop calling him that, ‘kid.’

“What should I do?”

“Tell me your name; for starters, if we’re gonna be partners for the next two weeks.”

He winked, and he swore the kid blushed.

Fuck.

He was a bit of a cute kid. If a bit too reckless and a total loner.

“Oh. It’s Credence.”

“Charmed.”

He stuck his hand out, and the kid, Credence, took it, shaking it as firmly as he could, considering how much Percy’s hand dwarfed the kid’s. His hands felt strangely rough against Percy’s own.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Percy frowned,

“What’s up?”

“I’m bleeding.”

Percy glanced at his hand, and did indeed see a smear of blood on his palm, which had come from the kid’s, and he rolled his eyes.

“Damn, you still managed to get hurt. Jacob’s gonna think I’m a terrible scout master.”

“No it’s not your fault. I was already hurt.”

Percy narrowed his eyes,

“What do you mean?”

Credence shrugged, and shoved his bloody hands into his pockets, before walking a few steps away, kicking at sticks and dirt.

“You don’t want a band aid or something?”

Gauze more like, if he was hurt over his entire hand.

Percy knew how that was, he’d slipped up and cut his hand on a broken beer bottle once, and a fucking band aid hadn’t done shit.

“It’s okay. I don’t want you to have to leave them for me.”

Credence jerked his head in the general direction of the rest of the group and Percy cocked a brow.

“I’m in charge, am I not?”

Maybe it was the worst idea ever in letting the kid question his authority but the way Credence nodded and looked more than a little solemn told him that _he_ certainly wasn’t about to do that.

“Okay. Team! Back inside for snacks!”

He wasn’t stupid, he knew what worked.

Jacob always served some kind of food, and he’d checked it out before the kids started arriving. That night it was animal crackers and apple juice. Creative… not.

Once the kids were all back inside the church building, Percy snagged Credence by a slender arm and told him to take him to the first aid kit.

“It’s not very good.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve used it before.”

Good lord how much did the kid get hurt?

A lot, he supposed, by just the look of him. Fragile, skinny, knobby kneed and without a scrap of muscle to help defend himself.

Damn, why was _that_ such an appealing thought? Playing guardian angel for some little scrap of nothing?

 _‘Not now boner_.’ He thought furiously to himself.

The kit wasn’t very substantial, but it did have alcohol wipes, medicated ointment and a small roll of gauze. It would have to do.

“Hold still, this will probably sting a bit.”

He eyed the kid, watching for any reaction, but even as he wiped the cuts on each palm with the alcohol, he didn’t see even a wince.

That was strange.

He was no baby, but he hated pouring that shit on open wounds, and usually it hurt almost worse than getting the original cut.

He could feel a slight tremble to the kid’s hands as he worked, but still, not a sound.

“You okay?”

He eyed him, watching carefully as he dabbed the ointment on with a finger, having barely remembered to wash his own hands before beginning the operation, and the kid nodded.

Silent as the grave.

Until he wasn’t.

“Of course. This is more than I usually get. I don’t like to take up too many of the supplies; I know the church can’t afford a new kit every week.”

It was a joke. It had to be.

The kid didn’t come in like that every meeting with hands that looked like they’d been hit with a _belt_ , did he?

Percy knew he’d be having a long talk with Jacob if that was the case.

There was neglect and there was abuse, and Credence, he suspected, was a victim of the latter.

But clearly he didn’t like talking about it, or even acknowledging it.

“There. All done.”

Credence stared at his hands like they had been coated in liquid gold, and his dark eyes were shining with something that Percy thought were tears.

Finally a sign of emotion.

Or reaction to pain at least.

But he really didn’t know how to deal with crying kids, even if they happened to look like they might be twice as pretty if they cried.

He tried to physically keep from slapping himself, and settled for biting the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood.

“Thank you Mister Graves…”

Percy started back to close up the kit, but he felt a hand on his arm, and looked over to see the kid watching him, biting his lip.

Why did he have to go and do that?

He was losing the battle with himself all over again.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice was surprisingly steady considering the arousal starting to pound along with the drumbeat of his heart.

“I feel bad… making you call them all back inside early for me. Is there anything I can do to apologize?”

Yes.

No.

_Bad._

Stop.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot to mention this story is technically making use of a post from Fantastic Beasts Smut about an easily aroused Percy among other things. Its a great blog very nsfw.
> 
> If you're this far and you havent read the warnings, refresher course, this is underage credence ok?

Credence knew the group already hated him, so maybe he was pushing the truth a little bit, but he could have sworn he felt something like kindness emanating from the man before him, rough and wild as he might have looked.

“I don’t know. Maybe just don’t climb any more trees until your hands are completely better? Less blood, less bandages needed?”

He held up the kit and grinned, and Credence felt a wave of heat wash over him just from the sight.

The devil.

He still lingered.

What was it about the man that tempted him so much?

“Yes Mister Graves. I will. I promise.”

He hopped down from the counter he’d climbed onto so that the man could better reach him, and beamed up at Mister Graves, somewhat awaiting instructions.

“Good. Now run along and get a snack.”

He nodded and then hurried off, before he could do something stupid like hug the man or something, and risk awakening more forbidden feelings, only to find the side table empty, and the bottle of juice with barely a drop left.

The group didn’t speak to him, but rather they pointedly seemed to be trying to avoid looking at him.

“I see. Okay.”

Jacob usually put out more than enough snacks for everyone, and himself, and yet somehow they’d managed to finish them all in the time it had taken Mister Graves to wrap up his hands.

The man himself bustled out a moment later, and then passed him by, hand landing on his shoulder for a brief squeeze before he addressed the group of scouts.

“So guys, did you learn anything tonight?”

The tallest one, Abernathy, Credence remembered suddenly, piped up as if he thought he could steal the crown of teachers pet,

“Yes sir.”

“What’s that then?”

“Jacob actually has friends.”

Credence would have gaped at him, but Mister Graves was laughing.

“Oh we go way back, don’t you worry. Jacob has plenty of great friends. Any questions?”

Collectively the scouts shook their heads, some mouths still chewing on the crackers.

“Great. Dismissed, I guess?”

A cheer, somewhat muffled, rose up from the group.

It was still only eight, but Credence supposed there was no point sticking around, he needed to start walking home.

He only lived about five blocks away from the church, in a fairly quiet and bland looking house, just on the edge of the suburbs.

Once he’d gotten about a block away from the church, he swore he heard his name being called, but he chocked it up to his empty stomach growling.

Another block went by and he blinked at the ground, it was definitely not the wind or his stomach. He was afraid to turn around and find someone following him, maybe to tease him or shove him onto the sidewalk, so he kept moving.

Then there was a car pulled up alongside him, and he heard the smooth mechanics of a window rolling down, and it wasn’t just a disembodied voice, it was Mister Graves.

“Hey kid, where are you going? Don’t you have someone coming to pick you up?”

Credence looked over at the man, sitting inside his nice looking car, and shook his head.

“I don’t live very far. So ma says I can walk it. It’s good for me.”

“Bullshit. It’s almost dark.”

Hardly. The sun was setting yes, but it wouldn’t be dark for a while yet, Credence knew that well enough.

“I’ll be okay, thank you.”

“You didn’t get a snack did you? I saw the food was gone. I’m a little pissed myself. I wanted to try some. I haven’t had an animal cracker in fucking years. Sorry.”

Was he apologizing for swearing or for noticing?

Credence wasn’t sure, but he still felt a curl of warmth tingling at his spine again.

“It’s okay; I can eat when I get home.”

A well practiced lie.

Mister Graves didn’t seem convinced.

“Come on. I’m going to Meg’s diner. Just hop in, join me. I’ll have you home before nine, and you won’t have to walk.”

He only hesitated a moment, before nodding, and the result was another brilliant smile on the man’s handsome face.

He blinked.

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about that?

Luckily he had his hunger pains to distract himself, somewhat.

The diner itself was nice, typical silvery chrome outside, with several squat tables inside as well as a bar top counter.

Mister Graves chose the table at the far end, so that he could keep an eye on his car, and also the front door, which made Credence wonder if he was a cop, or ever had been.

“What do you do, besides fill in for Jacob?”

Credence found himself asking, after the man had ordered them two burgers and milkshakes, strawberry for him, chocolate for Mister Graves.

The man sighed, and plucked at the cheap fabric flower in the fake vase on the table sandwiched between the salt and pepper shakers.

“I’m sort of a wanderer right now. I dropped out of the academy and haven’t decided if I want to go back, so I just take odd jobs. This whole volunteer things sort of sucks, because it’s three nights I can’t work. No offense kid.”

Credence shrugged,

“It’s okay. I don’t know why Jacob does it either, if there’s really no money in it.”

Mister Graves smirked,

“Out of the goodness of his heart, and he says, to practice for when he has his own kids someday. Crazy shit if you ask me.”

Credence nodded numbly, unsure how to answer a statement like that.

Fortunately their food arrived shortly after, saving him from having to do so.

He’d never tasted anything so good, and he found himself alternating between bites of the burger and sips of the milkshake, only stopping when he looked up and found the man making a face at him.

“What are you doing kid?”

Credence blinked, and swallowed before answering, ‘ _never speak with your mouth full_ ,’ ma’s voice echoed around his mind,

“Just enjoying the meal Mister Graves.”

“Yeah but… the milkshake is dessert. It’s after the burger.”

Credence shrugged,

“I’ve never had one before, so I just wanted to make sure I savor every bite.”

Mister Graves choked on a sip of his water,

“What?”

Credence felt his cheeks heating,

“It’s really good, but ma doesn’t take us to eat out. She says its gluttony. Homemade food is better for the immortal soul.”

“Jesus… I mean, fuck, that’s crazy. It’s just food. It’s not like you ordered the whole menu. It’s a meal. It’s for your health. Well, maybe not _this_ meal, but like…”

The man trailed off, eyes seemingly caught on Credence’s bony wrists and arms, and he flushed harder, wishing he had long sleeved jacket to hide behind.

*

Percy stared at the kid across the table from him, and his heart almost clenched in his chest. Abuse was too nice a word for what the kid was living under, clearly.

The way he’d been eating, while polite, was in a rushed manner, as if he expected Percy to just snatch the plate away halfway through, and thus, he was eating both the burger and drinking the shake together.

“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be bothering you with personal matters.”

The kid was apologizing again, and Percy didn’t even know what for.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m the scout _master_ for now; I’m supposed to be someone like, a mentor, right?”

He didn’t know for sure if that was accurate, but it felt right, and the kid nodded at once.

“You are. Yep. Didn’t Jacob tell you? You’re like a _father_ figure, or mentor.”

Percy gulped, and tried to avoid that clarification, and subsequent line of thought, but the kid went on.

“I don’t even have a dad. So Jacob has been the only uh, guiding adult influence besides ma. She doesn’t really know what I’m lacking, because she works hard to be a godly influence for me and my sisters. But we were adopted. So, we’ve been a hardship and a burden to her. I try very hard to be my best.”

Adopted? No father?

Recipe for disaster.

He gripped the table, so tight he could hear the metal and plastic squeak, and it didn’t stop him from getting hard again.

“I’m sure you do fine. But she’s the one who caused those. So clearly she’s got some rage issues.”

The kid blinked wide at him, and shook his head so hard it made his dark bangs flop into his eyes.

“No sir, no Mister Graves, not at all. I am a sinful boy and I deserve punishment when I disobey her or God. It’s usually by accident, but ma says ignorance of the law is no excuse. Hormones and reactions to things are within my control, usually.”

The kid was smiling, a bit sadly, Percy thought, and he felt a flare of his own anger at such bullshit that had been quite literally pounded into him.

“You’re what, twelve? You’re so much better than most boys your age. You don’t even look like you’ve bummed a smoke, or had a drink. You’re doing great.”

What was the harm with a little indulgence in self pleasure?

Oh.

That was a bad thing to think about too.

Now it was _all_ he could think about.

“Thirteen. I would never use cigarettes or alcohol; they are of the devil’s persuasion.”

Percy fought the urge to rip all the fake petals off the fake damn flower staring him in the face in front of the pale kid. They were the same shade of pink as the boy’s mouth. But those lips were ripe and plush, not dead and flat like the flower.

Fuck.

“Right.”

Thirteen? Jesus Christ.

“You shouldn’t talk about things like that. Not with me.”

The kid looked as if he was trying to be helpful, but it only served to make him appear too damn innocent for his own good.

“Yeah. My bad.”

Check please.

By the time they’d piled back into his car and were headed towards the street address Credence had given him, Percy’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

He wasn’t about to try and cross his legs while driving, but he was praying, for the first time in a decade that the kid wouldn’t ask any awkward questions.

“Can you tell me what we’ll be doing next week?”

Percy swallowed thickly and glanced over at the kid, who was starting to peel off the gauze from his hands and roll it into a neat, if slightly bloody, ball.

“I don’t know I’ll have to talk with Jacob… what are you doing?”

Like a deer in the headlights, the kid stared back at him for a moment, before speaking, an apologetic tone to his voice,

“I can’t come home with these on. I never do. Ma will think I sought out charity. People never give anything without wanting something in return.”

Percy had never heard such a parroted load of bullshit in his life.

“O-oh okay. I see.”

The kid smiled at him, and there was a hint of honesty there, now,

“Thank you for all you did Mister Graves sir. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Percy watched him as he jumped out of the car and sprinted to the front door, stretching up to grab a hidden key from above the doorframe, and then disappeared inside.

Holy shit.

What a ride.

He decided first thing in the morning he was calling Jacob.

First thing he was doing when he got home was jerking off.

A lot.

*

Credence was turning into a true peon of the devil and he didn’t know how to stop. The night he slept after meeting Mister Graves, or temporary Scout Master Graves, as he _should_ call the man, he hadn’t really slept well, and he’d awoken to sticky pajama pants and sweaty sheets.

His heart was pounding in his chest and he wasn’t sure what had happened, but somehow the fire had engulfed him, and spat him back out, still alive, unburned, but tingling from the unconscious disobedience.

The shower would not get cold enough to soothe his skin, and he fought the urge to cry as he walked to the bus stop for school that morning.

He spent the whole week in the same agony, every night he had dreams he couldn’t remember in the morning tormenting him, until ma finally caught notice.

She hit him with his belt on his hands again, and then told him to iron his scout jacket before she used the iron on him next.

He was trembling and shivering as he made the trek to the next meeting, and he ended up arriving late. He could only hope Mister Graves wouldn’t notice him, as he didn’t follow the rest of the group to do whatever Jacob had assigned them through their new leader.

He was leaning his head against the wall, dimly able to feel that his undershirt was sticking to his back with drying blood, because ma had eventually decided to hit him over it, so he would have a lasting reminder to fight away the devil, and tried to breathe slowly, to keep from throwing up like he felt he might.

“Credence? Hey kid, you okay?”

There was a hot and heavy hand on his shoulder, and he shook it off, moving away as violently as he could, as tears stung his eyes.

“Whoa now, what’s wrong? You’re shaking…”

Credence squeezed his eyes shut tighter and shook his head,

“Please Mister Graves, I don’t feel good…”

Before he knew what was happening, the man was scooping him up into his strong arms, as if he weighed nothing, and taking him somewhere.

He finally felt solid ground beneath him again, and he realized they were in the office where the first aid kit was.

“Tell me where you’re hurt.”

Mister Graves’ voice was a low rumble, not leaving room for argument, and Credence’s hands shook as he started undoing his vest and shirt, barely hearing the man gasp aloud at the sight of his bare back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be any trouble, but I couldn’t skip a meeting.”

“Credence, you aren’t in trouble. How did this happen?”

Credence shook his head again. It was family business, and between his ma and God, he could not, he would not…

Mister Graves’ hand was firm on his face, fingers gripping his jaw, and lifting his chin so that he had to meet his gaze.

“Tell me.”

Mister Graves didn’t let go of him, and he wouldn’t let him look away and just keep crying. Credence could feel the burning beginning from that point of contact.

“I was wicked. I had dreams that made me feel things. Improper things.”

The man didn’t appear as disgusted as he should, and instead simply sighed, as he dropped his hand, the loss of contact making Credence bite his lip to keep from whimpering.

“Look, this is all normal. Like, you should be able to freely explore your changing self and just… not be punished for it. Let me try and clean these okay? It’ll probably hurt.”

Credence shrugged, feeling the somewhat congealed bloody cuts shifting,

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“Fuck.”

The man worked slowly and quietly, wiping over his back with alcohol wipes until there was a reddened pile of used ones in the trash, and Credence felt every inch of his skin tingling.

“You can’t put bandages on them… she’ll see.”

“Credence…”

The man’s voice was a low whisper, and Credence shivered as he could feel the warm presence of his body at his back, a hand searing on his lower back, and the other over his neck, a thumb rubbing the skin beneath his ear.

“Mister Graves, please…”

He wanted to beg the man to stop, to leave, let him get dressed and run home, but he also didn’t know how to begin to do so.

The devil was calling to him, and the man with him was being kinder than any adult he’d ever known besides Jacob.

*

It might not have been a sure thing before that night, but now Percy knew he was certainly going to hell for the way he could not keep his hands off the boy.

The sight of the boy’s back was enough to make him furious, and subsequently killed the persistent erection he’d been trying to fight off since he’d first carried the boy away from the main room.

Percy had only had pure intentions, originally, but now, he was too involved. He couldn’t just sit by and let the young boy continue to serve as the punching bag and cutting block for some horrendous bitch who called herself a mother.

Did Jacob know about any of it?

He couldn’t have.

Percy wasn’t even someone who usually took care of domestic cases, and in his time of security jobs outside of the academy he’d only witnessed a few altercations, usually the result of too much drinking or overheated discussions that got out of hand.

But now?

There was quite literally nothing on the earth to stop him from trying to rescue the boy.

When he opened his mouth to plead for something, looking back over his scarred shoulder at him with watery eyes and pinked cheeks, Percy could feel his perfect control, when he wasn’t drinking, beginning to crash down around his ears.

“Yes, what do you need?”

“Can you take this evil from me?”

Percy was utterly lost, and he blinked,

“What? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He bit his tongue to keep an unconscious and inappropriate endearment from slipping out.

The boy shifted around on the countertop to face him, and Percy’s eyes dropped to where his hands were cupped over his groin, and his heart skipped a beat.

“But this won’t go away. No matter how many times I make a mess in the mornings after my dreams. Help me, please?”

Percy gulped, and shook his head,

“I, uh, can’t do that for you. There’s a bathroom right down the hallway. Just go uh, touch yourself, and then come back out whenever you’re ready for the snacks. You get first pick.”

He handed the boy back his shirt and jacket, and tried not to wince at the smears of crimson staining the shirt, before quickly walking away.

He didn’t run.

Not quite.

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, like a roaring of an ocean wave threatening to drown him. But he’d done the right thing; he’d been good and proper and a leader and mentor and refused to give in to the easiest thing, to take advantage of the boy.

It didn’t matter that the boy had been almost begging him for that, Percy couldn’t do it. He _did_ need to talk to Jacob and see what could be done about the horrific home life of the boy.

When he finally emerged, he was still flushed and shivering, but looked a bit less… tense.

“M-mister Graves?”

Percy swallowed thickly and tried to form a smile,

“Yes Credence?”

“You won’t tell anyone about that… what you saw… will you?”

In that moment, Percy wasn’t sure if he meant the scars or the other request, but he _could_ promise to one, so he nodded.

“You have my word. It’ll be our little secret.”

The boy lit up at once, and Percy wanted nothing more than to pull him into his arms again, and hug him until he fell asleep, or felt safe and sound, whichever came first.

“What are we having today?”

T-L-C.

No.

Percy sighed and then waved a hand at the table behind him,

“Iced tea and fig Newton’s.”

Credence came over to pour himself about three sips worth of tea, and took exactly one cookie, before retreating to what Percy supposed he considered ‘his’ corner of the room, and deftly sunk down to a cross legged seat.

“That’s all you want?”

“I’m not very hungry Mister Graves.”

Goddamn it.

Why was he _like_ that? Stubborn, but so sweet.

“Well, I better go check on the rest of the group…”

Percy started edging towards the door, and Credence nodded,

“I’m sure they’ll ask about me but will pretend they don’t really want to know.”

Percy fisted his hands at his sides and then left the boy behind.

When he got home that night, his thumb was already speed dialing Jacob, and he didn’t give a shit if the man was too sick to talk.

“Hello?”

It was Queenie, of course.

“Hey it’s Percy. I need Jacob.”

“He’s already asleep honey.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Put him on the phone now, or so help me I will come over.”

“Percy, don’t snap at me like that, what’s gotten into you? Are you drunk?”

Percy sighed,

“No Queenie, I’m not drunk. I’m the soberest I’ve ever been, and there is a serious _fucking_ problem going on, I need Jacob right now.”

“Is it anything I can help with?”

“No Queenie _I NEED JACOB_.”

“Christ Percy, hold on.”

There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the line, and eventually there was a groan and a hello.

“Look Jacob I’m sorry, but there’s a very important fucking thing we need to discuss.”

“Percy… you know I’m still sick right? I can’t come back next week. I’m still contagious. It was the flu and now it’s,” he broke off to cough violently, and Percy sighed.

“Pneumonia? Yeah I figured. But Jacob, that Barebone kid… he came tonight with a back that looked like a fucking steak. White and red cuts and scars… this is a serious problem.”

Another fit of coughing.

“Are you sure? How did you see them?”

Percy gritted his teeth,

“What do you think Jacob? The kid came in hunched over and crying, and I took him to the first aid kit, _again_ , and he said his back was hurting.”

All right so he was lying, a bit.

After all, he had promised to keep most of it a secret.

“Shit man.”

He hadn’t heard Jacob swear in a long time.

“What can be done about it? Like short of calling CPS?”

“Percy… you know better than I do. I mean, you’re in charge right now. It’s your call. But the foster system could be even worse for the kid.”

Percy thought his phone might be in serious danger.

“Don’t fucking do this Jacob. You don’t know. You didn’t see him. He’s terrified. The most hands off and ignoring parents would be better than this self righteous Jesus worshipping bitch who uses the bible as an excuse to beat her son.”

“I’m going to ignore that little jab you just made at my faith and say again, it’s your call. You’re the cop after all. Make the best decision.”

“Jacob, I know you love these kids, so you can’t expect me, someone who doesn’t usually give a shit for kids, thank you very much, to just sit by and let this sort of thing go on. I think you know me well enough.”

“Percy… I trust you. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

After he had hung up the phone, he just wasn’t sure what the right thing _was_ anymore.

Calling CPS was unpredictable and meant more trouble than good, sometimes.

He was half worried the damn woman might hurt Credence more if they showed up, or somehow she’d lie her ass off and they’d leave, none the wiser, and Credence would _still_ suffer for it.

It was an impossible situation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK THIS IS WHERE THE SIN BEGINS IN EARNEST pls leave if you're just here to troll.

“What are you packing for?”

A blow met his right ear, and Credence squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the pain that made his head snap around.

“It’s the camping trip. It’s overnight. I brought you the permission slip; you signed it a month ago.”

“Don’t talk back to me.”

Another slap and he could hear his ears ringing now.

“I’m sorry ma.”

“Go on then, finish up and get going. I expect you to be on your best behavior. Do whatever the scout master tells you.”

Credence didn’t speak again, but he thought that yes, he would. Gladly.

The dreams hadn’t stopped, in fact, they had only gotten worse, and nothing seemed to help. He’d touched himself the week before, just as Mister Graves had told him to do, and he’d ended up crying even harder after he finished, for the first time in months he had been stuck fully awake, and all that he had been able to think about, was the man’s hands on him.

He still couldn’t believe he’d actually _asked_ the man to touch him, and Mister Graves said no, and sent him away. Maybe he wasn’t the devil in disguise after all, maybe he was good, and pure, a true mentor, and good leader.

He was everything to Credence.

If he could have had a father, he hoped he would have been like Mister Graves, and tried to protect him from his ma.

Although, he didn’t think the way he dreamed of the man would have been the way he’d imagined his true father.

Divorce was a sin, but Credence wished that he’d known his family and been able to live with his real father instead of coming to stay with ma from the orphanage.

When he arrived at the church, no one else was there yet, not even Mister Graves.

He blinked rapidly, and then ran to the bathroom without a thought.

He could be free there, and could finally stoke out the fire that had been burning inside of him all day at the thought of seeing Mister Graves, knowing they still shared the secret from before.

His face looked red around his cheeks and ears, but that was to be expected. Ma hit hardest on his hands and back, she didn’t want to leave obvious marks anywhere else. Awkward questions could arise.

Credence bit his lip as he locked himself in a stall and started undoing his pants, freeing his aching cock from his underwear, wrapping both his hands around it as tightly as he could, as he imagined one strong hand, bigger than his own, might do.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds of rough jerks and several swipes of his thumbs against the head, where slickness had been steadily leaking all day, making his underwear a bit damp, before he was coming, white streaks on the rim of the toilet seat, and some in the water.

He sighed shakily, and used a few handfuls of toilet paper to clean himself and the edges of the bowl, before flushing and redoing his pants.

By now, surely some of the other kids would be arriving, and Mister Graves was probably out there waiting for them all as well.

Credence hoped the redness in his face had gone away, and he picked up his bag to walk back out into the sanctuary.

Mister Graves was there now, and about a dozen other scouts were too, listening intently as the man went over the rules and expectations of the sleepover.

He caught the smile that the man threw his way, before continuing to address the rest of the group, and Credence hugged his backpack close to his chest when they started to go outside.

He didn’t hang back very far on purpose, but Mister Graves still caught up with him as he was walking towards the forest, the sun still setting, splashing the sky with purples and pinks.

“Hey Credence. Are you doing okay today?”

He nodded, chewing on his lip before smiling,

“I am now.”

He glanced over at the man to find him watching him, dark eyes seemingly filled with concern.

“Okay. Good. Do you have a tent?”

He shook his head.

Usually he just put his sleeping bag down on the ground and slept on it.

He didn’t mind.

“Oh. Well you can use mine. I’ll sleep outside.”

He remembered the last time there had been a sleepover. He’d picked a cave of sorts and it had rained that night, late, leaving everyone else huddling in their tents waiting out the storm, and he’d gotten lucky, sharing the natural ‘tent’ with a few critters, who simply huddled in the darkness while he was still near the mouth of it.

He could hear them rustling around, but they never bothered him.

“Don’t worry about me Mister Graves.”

The man finally smiled, a tight sort of grimace,

“It’s Scout Master, remember? None of this ‘mister’ stuff.”

A fire was built quickly enough by some of the older scouts, and Credence still huddled near the outskirts of it, not wanting to risk getting pushed near it or into a tree, or anything of the sort.

Mister Graves asked if anyone wanted to tell a story, ghost or otherwise, and Abernathy started one he probably thought was clever, but just made Credence roll his eyes.

It was from the bible and he just changed names and circumstances to make it scarier.

He was really kind of ridiculous.

By the time the fire died, Credence was shivering and the sun had long set.

Marshmallows had been roasted, and Mister Graves had actually ensured he got to try one, it had been too hot, burning his fingers and scorching his tongue a bit, but in the end gooey and sticky and delicious. Solid sugar, ma said about things like that.

Credence loved it.

He rolled out his sleeping bag, about ten feet or so away from the rest of the group, but jumped when he heard a twig snap and turned around to find to his relief it was just Mister Graves, his arms full with a collapsed tent and his own things.

“Hey kid. You want some company?”

Credence glanced over at the cluster of tents, some with flashlights shifting around and others dark and silent.

“Okay.”

Mister Graves worked quickly and methodically to set up his tent, and Credence was amazed at how big it was, compared to how it had looked before.

He could almost walk inside it and remain standing, he thought.

“Are you cold?”

Credence blinked and shook his head.

Lying.

He’d just disobeyed his ma, and by default, the scout master.

Mister Graves sighed,

“Come on kid, you’re shivering. Grab your bag.”

He didn’t want to argue and just say as soon as he got in his sleeping bag the fall night’s chill would go away.

The man moved into the tent and out of Credence’s sight, and then there was a gentle light glowing inside, so in the end, he followed like a moth to a flame.

It was pretty roomy for just one person, he couldn’t help thinking, and Mister Graves actually had a pillow that must have been stuffed inside of his sleeping bag, so it looked like a proper bedroom set up.

“Shut the flap.”

Credence plopped his bag down, and did so, carefully sliding the zipper so that it didn’t snag on any stray seams.

“Won’t they ask about me?”

Mister Graves was so much, _more_ , as he was there, only a couple feet away from him, sitting cross legged atop his own sleeping bag, and he cocked a brow,

“Ask what?”

“Why you let me in here?”

Mister Graves shrugged,

“I wasn’t going to leave you out there to be eaten alive by mosquitoes, which would be a horrible crime. You’re safe in here.”

Credence nodded, but still couldn’t help gulping. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep, not well, that close to the man, never mind if he didn’t even have any dreams. His skin was already starting to burn, and he hadn’t yet probed the question of changing into pajamas.

“Thank you then, I guess.”

The man smiled, and shrugged.

“It’s nothing. Do you have any cuts or anything? I brought a new first aid kit just in case, for everyone, but I suspect you might need it most.”

Credence shook his head.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think I believe you…”

Credence hugged his arms around himself, tight enough to feel the skin on his back start to ache.

“No.”

He didn’t want to lie again.

“Come on. Show me. Besides, you aren’t going to sleep in your scout jacket are you?”

Credence shook his head.

*

Percy didn’t really know what he’d been thinking, but the main thought in his mind was that he’d made a big mistake, letting the kid into his tent in the first place. He’d argued with himself, rationalized it as he was going to give him some medical care, and then leave, sleep outside, right by the tent. He wasn’t _staying_ with the kid.

It was just temporary.

Although, if he was with the kid, there wouldn’t be any chance of foul play, which he already didn’t put past the other brats.

Why was it that the weakest creatures were the most beautiful and easily corrupted?

He didn’t know.

The kid, Credence, started taking off his jacket and his undershirt, luckily that time it wasn’t soaked with blood or anything, and then shifted around on his knees, baring his back to Percy.

“See? It’s all better.”

Hardly.

Percy could see where the skin had started to heal, thanks to his liberal application of ointment the week before, but there were plenty of red angry welts and whitish scars that he hated looking at.

“Do you want any more on it? I have the stuff right here.”

The boy gave him a shrug in reply.

Not a _‘no’_ then.

“Come over here, sit.”

Credence did, slowly, crawling slightly towards Percy’s sleeping bag, and perching carefully on the very edge, as if afraid to wrinkle it or something.

“There you go.”

Percy popped open the kit and snagged the tube of antibiotic ointment and dabbed a bit on his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it, before applying to the worst of the injuries.

The kid still jumped at his touch, but not from coldness.

“Okay there?”

Another nod.

His hands were so large over the kid’s back, with both of them he could almost span the lower bit of it, around his waist, and his head grew fuzzy, as he tried to breathe right.

When had he gotten so close?

“Mister Graves,”

“Scout Master.”

He corrected smoothly, and the kid shivered again.

“Master Graves, promise you won’t be mad?”

Percy sighed,

“Of course not. What’s wrong?”

Something _had_ to be wrong, the way the kid was shaking and he could feel his pulse lightning fast under his palms.

“It’s that feeling again. I feel like I’m burning up.”

Percy brought a hand to the kid’s forehead and found nothing out of the ordinary, before frowning at him,

“You don’t feel feverish.”

The kid shook his head, and reached up with a small hand to snag Percy’s wrist and yank it down towards his groin, placing it right over the suddenly obvious lump in his pants.

“I mean here.”

Fuck.

Percy tried to pull his hand away, and he saw the kid’s bottom lip quivering, so he hastened to reassure him,

“It’s fine. It’s normal. I have some Kleenex here, it was supposed to be for runny noses, but you can use it if you need to, there’s sunscreen in the kit, basically lotion, and I’ve got a book, so I’ll just be… over here.”

He was moving now, shifting away to grab the box, and snag the bottle of lotion, all while trying to ignore the growing urge to just pin the boy to the bag and ravish him senseless, with a hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t draw any undue attention.

“Please, can’t _you_ help me? I won’t tell anyone. But it’s all I can think about.”

He looked back to find the kid with a hand over his own mouth, eyes wide, as if he’d just confessed some appalling crime.

Meanwhile, Percy was starting to have his own troubles down south, and he could feel his mind starting to lose rational thought.

He _really_ was in trouble.

“You’ve thought about me? Well hell, that’s normal too. Fantasizing about people you uh, admire I guess? I’m flattered.”

He managed a smile, shaky as he felt.

“Is it?”

He nodded.

The kid still looked devastated, and incredibly tempting.

Half naked and hugging his knees to his chest, he looked as if he was prepared to suffer all night with his persistent arousal.

Percy sighed.

“If I help you, will you help me?”

He wasn’t about to do anything that stupid, he wasn’t.

No.

But yes.

The kid was already nodding, so eager and staring at him like he was the most wonderful thing on the earth, and Percy groaned.

“Okay come here. Sit in my lap, face away from me.”

It was the only way he could live with himself, if he didn’t have to look at the boy’s face.

Credence moved quickly enough, scrambling over to crawl towards him, not quite pressing his bare back, still a bit greasy with ointment into Percy’s chest.

Percy shucked off his own shirt quick enough, so that he could pull the boy back flush to him, and he felt a shudder rack through his slim body.

“There you go. Okay. Um. Open your pants.”

Giving orders wasn’t usually his forte, but he was a bit delirious, and lost in the moment as he held the boy in his arms, and watched as Credence did as he was told, pulling down his pants and underwear in one move, letting his cock spring free to nudge up against his stomach.

“Please Mister Graves…”

Percy couldn’t stand that title; it was making him feel old.

“Don’t call me that.”

The boy was nodding, before his head lolled back against Percy’s shoulder, as one of his hands finally made contact with the boy’s cock, and a full body shiver made Credence twitch and thrust forward against his palm.

“What should I call you?”

Percy licked his lips, and sighed shakily,

“You can call me Dad. If you want.”

What was one more horrible thing on his conscience?

Credence was almost squirming under his hold, and Percy was just barely stroking over his cock, his other hand gripping at the boy’s thigh, trying to hold him in place.

His neck was exposed, and Percy wanted nothing more than to kiss it, to mark the expanse of perfect skin, but the boy’s voice distracted him,

“Okay. Daddy, please, faster, and harder.”

Percy could feel a shiver of heat crawling down his spine, and he did just as the boy asked, each desperate shift of his hips over Percy’s lap making him that much harder too.

He hoped the boy wouldn’t notice or ask awkward questions.

“How’s that feel?”

No. He wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t call him any demeaning pet names.

Instead of a verbal reply, Credence keened a low whine, and Percy’s hand lifted from the boy’s thigh to almost slap over his mouth, fear of discovery rapidly rising in his mind.

It just made the boy move and try to push against Percy’s grip on him, and it didn’t take long after from that until he was gasping, moans muffled, as he spilled over his hand and his own bare stomach.

“Ohhhh… that felt so good.”

Percy had dropped his hand from the boy’s mouth to snag a couple Kleenex’s to ensure he got him cleaned up properly.

“I’m glad to hear I could help you.”

His voice sounded as shaky as he felt.

The second he’d gotten the boy cleaned up properly he started trying to cover him, redo the zipper and button, but Credence was shifting in his arms, and starting to straddle him, nudging his face into the crook of his bare shoulder,

“Let me help you too Daddy. What do you want me to do?”

His breath was warm on Percy’s skin, and he felt as if he was on fire himself, like he would die just to have a hand on his own cock for a moment, just a minute, that was all he would need.

“Can you do what I did for you? But with your mouth?”

Percy couldn’t take the words back now, but Credence was nodding against his chest, and pressing those pink plush lips on him, searing into his skin.

“Anything for you Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need a hot shower


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst + smut = ???

Credence had never felt so relaxed in his life, yet almost alive like he’d stuck a fork in a light socket, as he licked and kissed over the man’s bare chest, and his eyes landed on the bulge in his pants.

It was enormous.

He was afraid he couldn’t do it right, and when he put his hand on it, he swore it jumped.

“All right there?”

He looked up to find Mister Graves watching him, concern coloring over the pure sinful lust shining in his eyes.

“Y-yes Daddy.”

The word felt more and more wicked right as it left his tongue, and soon enough, he wouldn’t even need to speak.

There was a hand in his hair, fingers carding through his thick waves, and Credence fought hard to ignore it, to focus on the task at hand, almost literally.

He rubbed his palm over the lump, and heard the man groan.

“Do you mind if I lay down?”

Credence shook his head, and the man shifted his position so he was on his sleeping bag and leaning against his pillow, still able to see him perfectly.

He could feel his cheeks burning, and he continued, trembling fingers tugging down the man’s pants, revealing his massive erection.

It was so big and heavy it didn’t move like Credence’s had.

He gulped.

The hand in his hair was soothing, and he bit his lip, eyeing the cock before looking up to the man’s face,

“Don’t rush it baby boy. Go as slow as you want.”

A fresh rush of heat caressed over his body at the words, and he felt truly wicked as he leaned down, and gave the swollen head of the man’s cock a tentative lick.

He tried not to make a face.

It was, after all, like nothing he’d ever tasted, but it wasn’t as bad as Sunday night stew of course, so he couldn’t really complain.

“You can use your hands first; you don’t have to jump right in.”

Mister Graves’ voice sounded strained, as if he could barely speak.

Credence nodded, murmuring apologies at once, as he brought both hands to the man’s cock, and they barely covered it, but for a couple inches and the head, which was shiny and slick, like his always was when he woke up.

“Don’t apologize. You’ve never done this before, so feel free to ask questions.”

Credence shook his head,

“I couldn’t, I can’t… its okay.”

He dipped back down to put his tongue over the slippery head, and tried to wrap his lips around it, and pull it deeper into his mouth.

“Ungh, just like that. So good.”

Credence couldn’t smile, but he was internally beaming at the praise.

Maybe sinning was all he could do correctly, but at least the one person who seemed to care about him had noticed and didn’t care.

He closed his eyes, Mister Graves’ gaze too heavy and painfully intimidating to keep looking at, and stroked the man’s cock with his hands like he had done to his own a few times, and the hand in his hair tightened before loosening again.

It felt really strange, going up and down over the man’s cock, with his hands supplementing what his mouth couldn’t fit, which was barely any of it without hurting, making his eyes water and his throat sputter, and the man’s other hand was on his head now, pushing back the stray bangs that had swooped down into his eyes.

“You’re going to ruin me if you keep this up baby boy.”

Credence wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one, so he kept going, pulling back until the man’s cock had almost slipped out of his mouth, only to lick at the tip, imitating how he imagined people ate ice cream.

It wasn’t always served in a glass with a straw, he knew.

He hummed, and the man’s hips jumped under him, and the grip on his hair was almost painful, but it was a good kind of pain, it didn’t make him want to flinch away or stop it.

“Credence, I’m…”

He started at the sound of his name, but didn’t move, and the next thing he knew, his mouth was filled with a warm and salty bitter taste.

It was like finishing the last sips of soup, almost spilling it, but he wanted to be good, and carefully swallowed every drop.

He moved back and laid down enough to rest his cheek against the man’s stomach, and tried to catch his breath. He kept swallowing to get saliva to wash away the taste, and blinked away the tears that had sprung up, as he felt the hands in his hair loosen completely, and one was just stroking through it.

“How did you know how to do that?”

He shrugged,

“I didn’t. I just didn’t want to make a mess.”

The man sighed.

“Credence, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

He shook his head, and found himself smiling a bit,

“No. You didn’t.”

Mister Graves continued to pet his hair, until he felt his eyelids growing heavy, and his breathing slowed.

He felt the man shifting around, and when he opened his eyes again, he found Mister Graves had redressed and pulled open the sleeping bag to slip inside.

“Do you want to stay here with me or go over to your bag?”

His voice was a hushed whisper, and his lips were pressed against the skin below Credence’s ear.

“Please, let me stay with you.”

“Of course. Come here.”

Credence shuffled around so he could fit into the bag beside Mister Graves, right next to him so the man’s arm could rest against his back, and he pressed his face onto the man’s chest.

“This is still our secret, right?”

He put a hand over the man’s heart, and he could feel it pounding beneath his fingers, before one of Mister Graves’ hands came up to cover it, and his thumb rubbed over Credence’s wrist.

“Yes. It is.”

Credence had never fallen asleep so fast, and he could hear the man’s breathing soothing him as he moved in and out of consciousness.

He guessed maybe it had been a few hours when he felt Mister Graves shifting around under him, and before he knew what had happened, he was alone in the insulated bag, with a pillow under his chest and at his cheek, but no one else in the tent with him.

Credence frowned, and blinked into the darkness, tinged with a grey light.

He wondered if it was the early sunrise or moonlight, but he didn’t really want to move, he was so comfortable and warm, and his body felt light, as if the perpetual fever had broken, and left him free.

Until the loud unzipping of the tent sounded and he started, finding Mister Graves returning, still shirtless, and not even shivering.

“Are you okay?”

 He whispered, and the man sighed,

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you. I wanted to check on the other boys. Everyone else seems to be asleep.”

“What time is it?”

Mister Graves was crawling back towards him, and he shifted back to allow the man to climb back in his sleeping bag.

“About four in the morning.”

That time when the man pulled him close, he could swear he felt a kiss pressed to his temples, and Credence snuggled closer, trying to hug him with his entire body.

“That’s late.”

“Or early.”

Credence hummed.

The hand rubbing over his bare back stuttered to a halt when it reached the waistband of his pants, and Credence froze, feeling as it splayed over him, just slightly pressing over his backside.

“Are you tired?”

He shrugged,

“Kind of.”

But he wasn’t, not now, with the simple touching Mister Graves was doing, it was making the fire flare back up inside of him, and he didn’t know what he was chasing after, but he didn’t want the man to stop.

“Do you want me to do anything?”

Credence found himself nodding, and the man’s strong arms pulled him up the length of his muscled body, until he was leaning over the man’s face, staring down at his dark eyes, as one of his hands reached up to cup his face, a thumb stroking over Credence’s cheek.

“What?”

Credence couldn’t look away from the man’s eyes, but his gaze had dropped to somewhere around his mouth.

“Could we…?”

The man’s hand tightened slightly on his face, and dragged him down so that their lips met, and Credence gasped in surprise, parting his mouth so that the man’s tongue could slip inside, meeting his own.

The hand at his backside gripped harder, and squeezed slightly, making him shiver, grinding down the hardness he could feel stirring between his legs over the man’s hip.

“Mister Graves…”

“No baby, please don’t call me that.”

Credence gulped, as the man kissed away from his mouth, down his jaw line and towards his neck, broad palm still atop him, holding him firmly so he could continue rutting against him.

“Daddy, what are you doing?”

“I want to make you feel good, but if it doesn’t, just tell me okay?”

Credence nodded, and nuzzled his face into the man’s neck, feeling the man’s hands starting to push his pants down again, and then he was just thrusting against the man’s own pants, the friction almost painful.

“Please…”

Mister Graves was reaching away from him, fumbling for something, and when he brought his hand back over his bare backside, there was a tingling on his skin as fingers slipped between his cheeks and pressed gently over his hole.

He couldn’t help jumping a bit, and his cock twitched as he panted for air.

“Daddy…”

There was a clicking and a snap, and then cool slickness rubbed over that spot, the last place on earth Credence imagined Mister Graves would want to touch him, it was only for people who were committed to the worst kinds of sins, but though he knew it was wrong, it felt strange, but not bad.

Something breached his entrance, and a hand was under him, stroking over his cock, and his hips shuddered.

“How is it baby boy? Does it feel good?”

Credence just nodded, and whimpered against the man’s neck, lips parted as he gasped, feeling another finger sliding inside him, aided only by the slickness of the first, matching the burn that spread over his skin.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this, you know that?”

Credence shook his head unable to believe the man.

Beautiful? Him? With his dozens of scars and ugly soul? Never.

Squirming and desperate, feeling as if he might burst into flames from the way he was behaving, like some kind of wanton whore who debauched themselves simply for the pleasure of it?

He was drowning in sin.

But he didn’t want to stop.

*

Percy wasn’t sure he had ever used and abused sunscreen like he had in that moment, carefully testing the boy’s limits when it came to a bit of fingering.

He seemed to be enjoying it for the most part, gasping and trembling against him, mindlessly thrusting his weeping cock into Percy’s other hand, making him just as hard, almost praying that he’d be willing to help with that, again.

Never mind that the entire idea was really quite a bad one.

“Daddy, I think I’m gonna… ungh...”

The boy groaned into the crook of his neck, spilling into Percy’s hand and over his pants, as he continued to move his two fingers in and out of the boy’s hot and tight hole, he could feel the muscle spasm around him, as if trying to draw him in further.

Percy didn’t even think about the things he’d said, he just did it.

“Baby, you feel so good for daddy. Do you want to make daddy feel good?”

The boy nodded, humming slightly, and Percy could feel him pressing sloppy kisses to his neck and shoulder, as if trying to communicate wordlessly.

“Get on your stomach baby boy.”

Credence shifted easily, limbs loose and languid, and Percy was kneeling over him, unable to do anything but stare.

The boy let him tug off his pants all the way, so he was just lying beneath him, miles of pale skin only marred by scars on his back, some stretching all the way down to over his ass.

That made Percy angry beyond reason, and instead of doing anything that he wanted, he put his hands on the boy, gently massaging the skin, avoiding the worst of the scars, still healing with the now absorbed ointment, and kissed every inch of skin that wasn’t hurt.

“I’ll keep you safe. You know that, right?”

Percy glanced up from where he’d had his lips poised above the boy’s lower back, and saw Credence nodding, a slight smile on his pinked lips.

“Good.”

He moved back to kneel again, and shoved his pants down his legs and kicked them off, before returning to Credence, putting a hand on each thigh, carefully nudging his legs apart.

“Is this okay?”

Credence just shrugged.

“Tell me.”

“Yes daddy.”

Percy groaned, low in his throat, and squeezed his hands so tight the boy gasped, and shifted, pushing his ass into the air a bit, and he felt his cock twitch.

“Okay baby boy, hold on to the pillow if you need to.”

He put a bit more sunscreen on his palm and slicked his cock up, before leaning down and rubbing the head of it between the boy’s ass cheeks.

He dimly heard the boy whimper, and then the tight heat was engulfing his cock, slowly as he pushed inside a bit at a time.

There was some resistance of course, he knew the boy could probably only handle half of his length, so he didn’t try to force anything, as he could feel the slender limbs under his hands begin to tremble, and the boy let out a whine.

“Please daddy, it hurts.”

“Okay baby, I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

Percy gritted his teeth and pulled back out, moaning at the loss of contact, but he brought his hand to his cock, rough and hard thrusts of his fingers trying to mimic the feel.

Credence was shivering beneath him, and looked as if he wanted to cry again.

“Shh-hh, it’s okay. I won’t do it again.”

“I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry I couldn’t be good for you.”

“No baby, you did great.”

He paused to reach over and snagged one of the boy’s hands, squeezing gently, and he felt the boy squeeze back.

Then he was gone, his hard strokes bringing him off, painting the boy’s marked back with white ropes of his come, hiding some of the worst scars.

A tremor went through the boy again, and Percy leaned over him to press a kiss between his shoulders, before snagging a Kleenex to begin wiping the mess from his skin.

“I did good?”

The boy’s voice was so soft, so quiet, it broke Percy’s heart.

He was used to being beaten for any little thing, and he didn’t seem to want to believe he didn’t deserve that.

“Yes baby boy. You were perfect.”

Percy’s hand stroked through the boy’s hair, and he could feel him start to relax. He pulled the sleeping bag back over them both, as he pulled the boy into his arms, tucking him right against his body.

He only got about an hour of sleep before he knew he needed to get up, get dressed, and pretend none of the night had happened.

For the boy’s sake and for his.

After all, it was their little secret.

He scooped a sleeping Credence up, sleeping bag and all, setting him outside the tent carefully, behind a fallen tree so no one would see him when he woke, redressed in his pants and scout jacket, which was more than a little wrinkled.

The first kid to approach him after sunrise was the tallest one, annoying Abernathy, as Percy thought of him.

“Can we make biscuits and gravy for breakfast?”

Percy cocked a brow,

“Do we have the supplies for that? I was under the impression we’d go visit the nearest McDonalds for breakfast. Jacob said there’s a fund for that.”

“Oh. Okay Master Graves, whatever you say.”

Percy snorted, and finished rolling up his tent and packing his things.

He didn’t like anyone else saying that, only Credence managed to say it with true sincerity, and an impossible sweetness seemed to bleed out of the boy.

When he checked on the boy, he was still asleep, hands pressed together under his cheek, with a slight smile on his face.

Percy hoped he was having good dreams, but he’d need to get up soon, so he knelt down, and stretched out a hand to touch Credence’s face, pushing back the stray black bangs that tickled his forehead.

“Good morning.”

His bit his tongue to keep the endearment from slipping out, and he watched as the boy’s long eyelashes fluttered and he began to stir.

“Mister Graves?”

Thank fuck he hadn’t called him what he had been inside the tent. The boy was smart.

“Time to get up. We’re going to go out to breakfast, so just get your stuff gathered up as quickly as you can.”

Credence was already nodding, and sitting up, putting on a wakeful and energetic front. It made Percy’s heart ache; knowing he probably only did it out of habit, used to being ordered around at home.

Once all the scouts were organized and had dropped off their stuff back inside the church, Percy directed everyone to the school bus that had been donated for use.

The scouts all clustered in their own groups, and Credence took the bench closest to the driver’s seat, so that he could be seen in the rearview mirror, and Percy tried to smile at him, but the boy seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

Inside the restaurant, or more accurate, fast food haven, once again, Credence was abandoned in favor of several sets of tables that filled up and wouldn’t have had a space unless Percy asked for a seat himself, he suspected.

He picked his own empty table, and just sat and sipped his black coffee, wondering what the boy would do. Instead of joining him, the boy took up shop at his own empty table, slowly and methodically eating his breakfast, he’d chosen oatmeal and a cup of orange juice, by far the healthiest things the place served, and only glanced over at Percy once, with the barest hint of a smile, before returning to his food.

Percy sighed, and finished his coffee, praying for eight am to arrive swiftly.

*

Credence didn’t make it to the next scouts meeting without something extraordinary breaking up the monotony of his normal week, and it came in the form of a tall lady with golden hair, and a smile like the sun.

“Hey honey. Can I talk to you a minute?”

The final bell had rung, and ma would be along to pick him up any minute, but he supposed he could, since she looked incredibly familiar, and not to mention kind.

“Okay.”

“You know who I am right?”

He shrugged, but there was a tingling at the bottom of his spine, as if something supernatural was trying to tell him he should.

“I’m Queenie. Jacob’s girlfriend? My sister, Tina, worked with Percy, who’s been filling in for Jacob for the last month almost.”

Credence nodded at once,

“Oh yeah. Mister Graves. Percy is his first name?”

Queenie nodded too,

“Yeah. Didn’t he ever introduce himself beyond ‘Mister Graves?’ How unusually formal for him.”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, anyway, the reason I’m here, is to bring you with me. Temporary care until we can find you a new home.”

“Why? For a sleepover? Do you need me to clean your house?”

Queenie looked horrified,

“Oh honey no. Didn’t you know? We weren’t going to make you go back to that awful place, not one more second.”

Credence gulped, and suddenly he realized what had happened.

Mister Graves had lied to him.

It hadn’t been their little secret.

Before he could say anything, black overtook his vision, and his knees gave out beneath him.

He didn’t even hear Queenie shriek.

“What’s going on here?”

“He’s been out for hours. I don’t think he took it well.”

“No shit Jacob. What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him anything, Queenie picked him up and brought him home.”

“I should think she would have been a little more delicate.”

“She was! She’s the best, but the kid’s pretty weak, look at him. He doesn’t look like he’s had a good meal in days.”

“Yeah. Probably not since breakfast on Wednesday.”

“Jesus.”

“I know… so where is he going to go?”

“I don’t know. The system takes time. The paperwork has just been processed, and that woman is probably going to kick and scream the whole way.”

“I know.”

“Look Percy, I do too. I mean, I used to do that. It just gets really hard after a while, seeing all these kids and knowing they’re probably going into something worse…”

“Don’t say that. Anywhere on earth would be better. I told you this already.”

“I was feverish. I forgot most of it. I do remember you yelled at me…”

“Sorry. But if you had seen the shit I had, you’d know.”

“Well I mean, without your testimony and eyewitness account we’d have nothing. So you’ve done well.”

“I can’t help feeling like there’s more I should be doing…”

“I mean, I don’t know how long Queenie thinks he can stay here, but she works, and I do too, more than scouts, and I’ve been out so long, I’ve got a lot to catch up on. I don’t want him to have to be alone during the day.”

“What about his school?”

“They’re recommending he change schools. To avoid any undue attention, additional stress, you know…”

“I guess you’re right. He gets enough shit from home and scouts. School is probably just as bad.”

Credence let out a groan, and tried to reach out; intent on stopping the man, making him stop talking and understand that no, school was his only relief, besides the last few weeks of scouts.

“Oh shit, he’s waking up. Credence? Credence can you hear me?”

Jacob’s usually cheery face swam into view first, and Credence blinked away tears and tried to focus,

“What happened?”

His voice was a croak, as if wearing out from lack of use.

“You passed out and Queenie had to carry you to the car and drive you home. This is my house. We share it, basically. Do you remember Percy?”

The man shot Jacob a glare,

“It’s _Mister Graves_.”

The two exchanged a look, and Credence shifted away, curling up into a ball as best he could,

“No, make him go away. I don’t want to see him.”

“Why not?”

He ignored the man, and flinched away when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but it was Jacob, and he shook his head harder.

“But Credence, don’t you realize, Percy saved your life. In a way.”

“He lied to me. He’s not my friend.”

He heard a low exhale, and then the man was talking to Jacob, not quite softly enough for Credence not to hear.

“Jacob, he needs some space. It’s okay. I’ll be outside.”

“Percy…”

Credence kept his eyes squeezed shut tightly until the man’s footsteps had faded away, and he felt as if a part of him had died. It hurt to know that he’d done that to Credence. He’d trusted him and he’d been just like anyone else.

“Credence… what’s really going on?”

“What did he tell you?”

His voice was a hushed whisper, and he heard Jacob move around to stand within his line of sight, behind the couch,

“He told me about your mother. What she did to you. How she hurt you? Starved you too. That’s more than wrong, and cruel, it’s illegal. It’s blatant child abuse. I know you probably can’t understand that, but Percy was very clear about how it needed to be stopped. I wish I had known sooner.”

“He didn’t tell you about the camping trip?”

Jacob frowned,

“He said you had been sent without a tent, so he gave you his. Isn’t that right?”

Technically, yes.

Credence nodded slowly.

“Everything he’s done has been to protect you.”

“Really?”

Credence was still hugging himself tightly, but he looked steadily at Jacob, who nodded.

“Percy is a good guy. I’ve known him a long time. I trust him. You can too. That’s what we were talking about. Maybe getting you into a different school, somewhere a bit quieter. You can stay here if you want, or you can stay with him, while things get worked out.”

Sparks exploded inside of his chest, and warmth spread over his skin at the mere idea of it, forbidden and tempting, thinking about seeing Mister Graves every day, coming home to him after school and having breakfast with him every morning.

“How long?”

“For what?”

Credence swallowed and started to sit up a little, leaning on one elbow,

“How long can I stay with Mister Graves?”

Jacob looked a bit more relaxed,

“Oh, it would be until the case is processed. Could be a month, maybe a bit more. Would that be okay?”

He found himself nodding, and Jacob beamed at him,

“Great. I know he’ll love that.”

Credence managed a small smile in return.

He sat up the rest of the way, and Jacob left the room, only for Mister Graves to come back inside, looking a bit worried.

“Are you okay? Are you mad at me?”

Credence didn’t know what to say, so he just blinked.

Tears were drying on his cheeks, and he saw Mister Graves inhale sharply.

“Credence, you know I would never… _ever_ talk about things that I shouldn’t. As for the rest of it, well, I couldn’t stand by and continue to see you hurt.”

The man was walking towards him, and he didn’t feel like shrinking away. To his surprise, Mister Graves kneeled down in front of him, and held out his hand,

“Can you forgive me for not doing it earlier?”

Credence took the hand between his, somewhat shakily, and squeezed,

“Yes.”

Mister Graves smiled at him, and it was the most beautiful thing Credence had ever seen. His heart leapt in his chest, and seemed to flip over.

“So you don’t mind staying with me, for a little bit?”

He shook his head, and the man licked his lips, and shifted back,

“Would you mind if I hugged you?”

Credence shook his head again, and the man gently tugged his hand, guiding him towards himself, but he didn’t move right, and ended up crashing into the man’s broad chest, feeling strong arms wrap around him, and hold him close.

There was a hand braced over his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, and the man’s breath was hot on his skin,

“I promise I will never hurt you. I won’t touch you either, not unless you do it first or you ask me to. Okay?”

Credence nodded against him, but merely held on tighter.

He wanted that, he really did.

*

Percy woke up in the middle of a chilly Saturday night as he felt something shifting over his bed, and he realized it was the boy, climbing onto the mattress.

“Credence, what are you doing?”

“M’cold.”

There wasn’t room to argue that, Percy knew he kept his house at about sixty degrees at night, but he was certain that first night he had given the boy at least a half dozen blankets to choose from.

He couldn’t see in the dim light, but he suspected the boy was giving him puppy eyes, and there was no way he could resist those.

“Okay. C’mere.”

Credence slid inside the covers as he lifted them to allow him the space to do so, and instead of stopping there, the boy further snuggled against him, intent on pressing his body into his, arms hugging him close.

“Credence…”

He wanted to chastise him, tell him that they needed to be more careful, take things a bit slower, but he only got a hum in reply.

He sighed, and brought a hand up to card through the boy’s hair, feeling as his breathing evened out, and his heartbeat stopped pounding a mile a minute.

By the time the sun had risen, they’d both shifted positions and Percy found himself on his back with the boy splayed on his chest, until he noticed it wasn’t an accident, and he almost shouted aloud the second a hand made contact with his cock.

“Credence!”

Another hum met his ears, vibrating into his skin as the boy pressed a kiss right over his heart.

“What are you-? Ungh.”

There was no more pretending at that point, the hand slipped inside his boxers and was stroking over his bare skin, no longer sleeping like the rest of him had been.

“Just wanna make you feel good. You have my permission. I started it.”

Percy let out a shaky sigh, and then brought a hand over to pet the boy’s hair,

“I see. So you’ve taken to ambushing me to get what you want, is that right?”

“You haven’t touched me at all this whole week.”

He was matter of fact, but Percy could hear an edge of hurt to it. Sure, he hadn’t touched the boy, beyond a hug in the morning, seeing him off to school, or when he picked him up after school, and the boy usually ran at him with a smile bright enough to blind him.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want -”

“- To rush me. I know. I’m here now, telling you I miss you.”

The hand sped up on his cock, and Credence was sliding down his body, kissing sloppily over his stomach and hips, pulling down his boxers with his free hand and making Percy’s head fall back into the pillows, overwhelmed by the sensations.

It would have been wrong to take advantage of the boy, and he had felt too guilty and responsible to jerk off within the last week too, so in a way he’d starved both of them of just basic affection, but after years of beatings he supposed it was probably an improvement.

“Credence… please.”

He didn’t know what he was asking for, but the second the boy’s kisses landed on the head of his cock, he squeezed his eyes shut, and let out a moan.

The boy was immensely talented, only having learned what to do from example at the sleepover and apparently a week of self denial made Percy revert to his own teenagerdom.

He was gripping Credence’s hair in his hand and shouting out as he came within a few minutes, and he could feel the boy choking slightly, trying to be as neat and tidy as he had been the first time.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to…”

He looked down to find the boy eyeing him, dutifully licking over his stomach and thighs where stray threads of come had escaped.

“I don’t mind… daddy.”

“You don’t have to do that either.”

“I want to. I want you to touch me, daddy.”

Credence pushed up on his hands and crawled over Percy to look down at him, like some kind of dark haired angel, and he couldn’t help the dreamy smile that overtook his face, before turning into a smirk,

“Okay, uh, straddle daddy’s thigh.”

Credence licked his lips and nodded, before sinking down to rub himself over the spot he’d been directed to, and Percy reached up to straighten the boy’s hair, before cupping his cheek and drawing him in for a kiss, tasting himself as his tongue slipped into the boy’s mouth.

Credence gasped into the kiss as Percy’s other hand splayed over the boy’s bare back, and moved to grasp over his backside, pushing him down harder onto his hip, feeling the lump of the boy’s own erection.

“Does it feel good baby boy?”

He broke the kiss to ask, before putting his lips to the boy’s neck, suckling the skin and nipping lightly, before licking over it to soothe the sting. The boy’s hips moved rhythmically as he chased the sensations and tried to gain more friction over his cock.

“Yes daddy it does. Can I come?”

He’d never asked before.

Percy tried to think, but it was impossible, with his gorgeous boy rutting over him, eyes dark and kiss reddened lips quivering.

“Yes baby. Come for me.”

Credence shuddered against him, and Percy felt wetness seeping into his skin through the boy’s boxers.

“You didn’t even touch me… so next time, you have to.”

The boy had collapsed onto him, panting for breath and Percy smiled, unable to hold back a laugh.

“Whatever you say.”

It was slowly becoming clear who was _actually_ in charge in the entirely fucked up situation, and it wasn’t him anymore.

*

 


End file.
